


Motionless (Negan x Reader)

by MiyakoNanashi



Series: TWD IMAGINES (X READER) [12]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Affection, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, F/M, Gen, Gentle Negan (Walking Dead), Gentleness, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Negan (Walking Dead), Reader-Insert, Sad and Sweet, Slow Burn, Surprise Kissing, Sweet Negan (Walking Dead)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:00:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27747910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiyakoNanashi/pseuds/MiyakoNanashi
Summary: He turned his face to the side and saw it: Your slightly bowed head that leaned against the wall, your (Y/H/C) hair, your arms folded, resting lightly on your chest, eyes closed and sitting motionless on a chair. You both hadn’t spoken to each other since THAT time…
Relationships: Negan (Walking Dead) & You, Negan (Walking Dead)/Original Character(s)/Reader, Negan (Walking Dead)/You
Series: TWD IMAGINES (X READER) [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895629
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Motionless (Negan x Reader)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: another old oneshot I forgot to post here.

A pair of (Y/E/C) eyes. That was all Negan could remember at that moment, there, forced to lie stretched out on that ground, with the handcuffs that held his arms to prevent him from making any kind of movement. Perhaps he would have missed even the desire to react, after all that had happened. His eyelids rose slightly, a beam of light that escaped the old shutters managed to hit him directly in the pupils, causing them to suddenly shrink with the impossibility of being able to cover his face with his hands. A bandage clenched his throat to protect the medical spots that pinched terribly under it while a grimace disfigured his face. He found himself again in a dark world, unable to reopen his eyes, and in his mind he returned that image when his own world ended completely like the era of an emperor.

》He was running out of breath, his lungs burning with every step, in his mind the fear of having you still behind him. His hand was terribly hurting: He had never felt such pain like at that moment, even though everything was amplified with his ego terribly shattered, in a thousand pieces like that glass with which you slit his throat. Negan had just fired his gun, making leaves fall to the ground, scattered in the now dry grass with the sun that kept burning onto the ground, not caring how much life on earth was left to extinction.

“That damn coward.”, he thought. "Eugene. That fucking treacherous bastard.“

Eugene had turned his back on him, as he had previously with you ans your group. But Negan himself, who in all that time had never allowed himself to entrust his trust to others, whose life had led him to believe that whoever was still alive, on that planet which now was only ruled by death, hid only infamy inside of himself. He had let himself be betrayed like this, as if nothing had happened. Now he leaned with his back against a tree, whispering a curse between his teeth, while his hand could barely managed to hold Lucille and with a grimace of pain on his face. He inhaled a breath of damp air, trying not to make a noise and leaned forward slightly, but just those few seconds allowed him to see you there, standing a few meters away from him with a badly hurt arm, probably injured. Probably he had some chance since the eternal rival seemed quite done by the battle. Negan narrowed his eyes, waiting in uncomfortable silence for your footsteps to come closer, then suddenly jumping up and throwing himself at the other leader, at you, knocking you both down, with each of you losing your weapon.《

Negan awoke a few minutes later, or maybe half an hour had passed, he was unable to say. He managed to slowly open his eyes as the slight beam of light that until recently had hit him directly in the face, had moved because the time had passed. Silence reigned in the small room. He had been there for a few days now, but besides the doctor who had stitched him up diligently, there was only one person who kept coming back, always. By now Negan knew perfectly when and it almost became his safe haven, the certainty of still being part of that world, of the living and undead. He turned his face to the side and saw it: Your slightly bowed head that leaned against the wall, your (Y/H/C) hair, your arms folded resting lightly on your chest, eyes closed and sitting motionless on a chair. You both hadn’t spoken to each other since that time… No words. So Negan looked up, saw you there, still in the same position, and stared at you until sleep took control of his body too.

"No…”

It was not the first time he heard you whispering in your sleep and it was always the same what came out of your lips, your eyelids moving fast as you were lost in the nightmares of your past. Negan pursed his lips, contracting his jaw, turning his eyes almost troubled by the sound of his heart that had accelerated the beats.

“That fucking bitch.”, he thought. "That world was not made for her.“

You had put aside the selfishness that the whole of humanity seemed to have sewn on yourself and had put aside your fear of others, pulling out more courage than all of them put together who, instead, only knew how to make war instead of helping each other.

(the next day…)

You had just finished discussing with Maggie, again, yet another time within a few days and were back in Alexandria. Now you went out into the sunlight, pausing a few seconds, while your fingers went to touch your eyes which burned terribly. You were tired of counting the days that passed as if you were a prisoner in a cell that marks them, one at a time, cutting them into the wall. The population of Alexandria had already begun to grow with the various human activities that had been diligently assigned to them. The war was now over… Or at least, the one against the Saviors. And you felt more than old. You could understand Maggie’s point of view and yet there was something that you could not allow: When you found yourself there, in front of Negan, on his knees with his hand dripping with blood as he grasped the cut on his throat, trying in some way to stop the bleeding, you finally understood. You were not like Negan and for that you had chosen not to kill him. Every day you repeated to yourself that it was for a reason… Suddenly a slight shadow stretched out at your feet, causing you to turn around and standing beside Siddiq.

"I just went to check his wound. He’s still inside, we should get him back into his cell.”, he began, crossing your (Y/E/C) eyes although they were surrounded by a slight blush, a sign that you still hadn’t slept. “And if you want to know-…”

You cut him off with a sharp wave of your hand, nodding. Thanking him faintly, you turned your back to him, walking towards the small building you all used as a doctor’s office. Siddiq looked at you as you walked with a lazy pace into that one place where you were lately able to only sleep a little bit, alone, lost in who knows what world and thoughts. He saw those curved shoulders that held the weight of the lives of all those people you had managed to save, but crushed above all by those who unfortunately hadn’t made it. Siddiq wondered how many feelings of guilt a person’s soul could contain before breaking. And to think that at the beginning he had almost called you a psycbut he soon changed his mind. You were a good person who encountered unspeakably brutal things. But life, unfortunately, was not saving or help anyone. Sometimes you found yourself thinking that maybe, in that world, death was a good thing. How could anyone want to continue living in a desolate land destroyed by the living dead? Because now, the human soul only left the body made of bones and flesh. You often wondered, who knows, how many of those souls, from up there, looked at what their own now rotting body kept doing, killing others, more and more. Right now, you didn’t bother to look around. And you didn’t care. You lowered the handle, finding yourself in that small room from whose windows not much light came in, the smell almost similar to that of the hospitals before the world ended. You didn’t turn on the artificial lights, you had to save on anything for the really dark moments that could arrive. You closed the door behind you, making as little noise as possible and stood there, watching him. Negan was lying in the same bed where Siddiq had left him, He now slept and looked almost serene. His hair was perfectly in order apart from where it rested on the pillow, spreading slightly. His grizzled beard filled his face, a trait that gave him that perfect masculinity. The only things that was out of tune were the bandage that lapped at his throat and still the handcuffs that could be seen enclosing his wrists on the bed. At that precise moment you wondered if, in a contrary version, Negan would kill you or save you if you would let him free. You now dropped on a chair, cradled by Negan’s feeble but calm breath, until your eyelids began to fall down and you fell into a deep sleep, moved again only by vivid memories and nightmares.

》You could see him distinctly at that point there, a few yards ahead with his black leather jacket, aware now that he had the ability to recognize your figure in the midst of a whole herd of human beings. Why? Because now Negan was the protagonist of his own world, since he had known you; the woman who had now the opportunity to kill him. You walked up to him, slowly, remembering him when he, without batting an eyelid and pleasure, had slaughtered your friends and your family in front of your eyes with his bat. But you had found yourself longing for his death, while you had not even realized how slowly you were transforming into a figure very similar to your rival. Maybe it always works like this, though: We never realize how much our own feelings and our own emotions are leading us to change, albeit slowly, until reality is brutally beaten in our faces. For you, that moment came when, after fighting with Negan again, in front of that one tree where you found yourself asking him for a truce, for your friends, aware of everything that could still happen. Negan’s eyes had become liquid, veiled by that sense of tiredness which that life was making him feel, that the role to be maintained that he had sewn himself with his own hands was bringing him to become what he was now. His lips parted in search of spasmodic oxygen, his face was suddenly deformed in a mask of suffering, his eyes became shiny and fixed now with yours, also veiled by those tears that perhaps exhibited all the feelings that you tried to hide… You both predicted what was going to happen. And it was at that moment, when your arm moved at the speed of light leaving a cut on the skin of Negan’s throat, where you became aware of the truth: You were becoming what you never wanted to be. The man in front of you fell to your knees, grabbing his throat with his hand, trying to block the thick and dense fluid that had begun to come out. A feeling of nausea invaded you, while you observed pity in Negan’s eyes, the pity that Negan wasn’t feeling for himself, but for you, because he had subtly used your friends, your family to so that to him. You turned your back only when you saw him fall heavily to the side of the lawn, staining it with the viscous red liquid. Then you found everyone there staring at you both: Amazed expressions, tired expressions… After all, no one was really happy. How could it be? Human beings were slaughtering each other for a simple game of power, to be able to understand who was the strongest. No, you couldn’t be like Negan. You were merciful, you had a heart, you wanted people to live, not to die. Now you looked around, confused, while you arm was aching.

“Save it.”, a faint whisper came out, but everyone heard it as a scream in that silence. The last thing you remembered was hearing Maggie’s harrowing and vexed scream.《

You opened your eyes again, moving slightly on the chair, feeling every inch of your aching body. You then stopped for a few seconds, just to understand how you could have stretched without feeling any more unwanted pain, but your attention was promptly drawn to Negan’s face, who was staring at you calmly from that bed.

“Good morning doll, did you sleep well?.”, he taunted you with a hoarse voice, sketching a half smile that ended with a slight grimace of annoyance, since his skin was probably still pulling on his stitches. You didn’t answer him, continuing to stare at him, getting up and finding yourself completely crooked, as if a train had derailed all over your body. Your neck creaked a little when you managed to move it by bending it first to the right and then to the left. With a short and slow-moving pace, you approached that figure who had always seen snoozing in those previous days, he was probably recovering, thanks to painkillers.

“It makes you feel so damn strong, right?”, Negan started again, watching you from the bottom of his position. “Looking down at me like I’m a fucking trophy.”

“I note with pleasure that you haven’t lost your damn ego.”, you answered without changing your expression.

“Maybe you should have cut a little deeper, you know. Down to my soul.”

Silence fell, until it was you, this time, who found yourself giggling instinctively covering your eyes with one hand. Negan remained silent to observe you, to observe the figure of that woman, almost feeling compassion, or perhaps, similarity. After all, you weren’t all that different, were you? You now approached another chair that was at the end of the bed, sitting down on it. With some difficulty, Negan still managed to put himself in a position to be able to look you in the face and you knew perfectly well that at that moment he was struggling to hold back the grimaces caused by the discomfort of the position, but it was perhaps one of the characteristics you most appreciated of him, not complaining for pride, the boundless one that predominated him.

“Come on, spit it out. I’m not crippled, I can feel that your fucking brain keeps repeating that question all over again. Or are you too afraid to listen to my answer?”

In your head the phrase that Negan had told you days before, when you both had found yourselves there, one in front of the other, resounded continually: “Maybe that time I should have killed you. Perhaps your people, then, would still be alive!”

Maybe. Who knows… Doubts tormented you every night. You could no longer even feel or have feelings in that world where some of your people, your family, those human beings you promised to keep save, no longer existed. You kept telling yourself that you had to work hard for Judith, for Michonne, for Daryl… For all of them, but the others… Paradoxically, in that world without any hope, the only person who could cause you emotions, though negative for the most part, was just Negan. You again left the chair, pushed it aside and approached Negan further, the fingers of your right hand went to the pocket of your trousers. In your hand you now had a bunch of keys, of which you chose a small one. Negan carefully observed the slightest gesture of you, totally displaced. Seconds later, he found his wrists free, still aching. You took a step back, leaving him the space and the possibility of pulling himself up while a slight dizziness invaded him. Negan stood up straight, facing you only a few inches away. You only at that precise moment, when Negan looked you straight in the eyes, you opened your mouth: “If you had been in my place, what would you have done?”

Negan then came closer, pointing a finger at your chest where your heart was. “I would’ve fucking killed you.”

But you both realized that this was not the truth. Negan had taken too long to respond, shaking, trying more than ever to reach a minimum of contact through that simple gesture of pointing his finger at you, brushing your clothes. You took another step forward, nudging the man’s hand with a dry gesture, then grabbing a piece of his shirt at the height of his chest, almost angrily, not bothering to cause him pain, your face close to his so that Negan could feel your hot breath on him. “You should have killed me when you had the chance!”, you responded, the tone of your voice had risen slightly. “If you had done so, right from the start… My people… They… They probably would have still been-… ”, you said but your voice broke in your throat, as your whole being was shaking. The grip on Negan’s shirt grew weaker, your face lowered and your forehead came to rest on his shoulder. The time seemed to stop completely. Negan found himself being unable to move or speak, without knowing how to behave. There should have been Daryl in his place. Or Rick. No, maybe better Daryl, because Negan had seen plenty of time how you two looked at each other, he had seen and felt the bond that flowed between you. Who instead was in front of Negan? Was it really (Y/N)? No. A shadow. (Y/N)’s shadow. A woman destroyed by what had happened to her, a woman full of scars. Why was the world turning upside down like that? Why her?

“(Y/N)…”, Negan started and for the first time he said that name without hate. He felt his body weakened and it was not so strange as he would have imagined. Now he found himself almost sighing, letting his body relax, his right hand rose, undecided about what to do, while he then gave up and put it down. Silence fell between the two of you, a silence not even so heavy. Inside yourself, you felt almost more at ease, apparently without knowing why. You needed to say those words that had killed you internally and made you regress to a state of non-life, if not apparently. You felt guilty and now you admitted it and you weren’t even surprised that your heart had decided to let you say it in front of thaz man, because you knew he would be the only one who could understand you: “It’s not your fault.”

After maybe a few minutes, you convinced yourself to step back, raising your face to Negan. The eyes of your enemy were looking into yours, noting that you hadn’t cried in all that time, not even a tear had fallen from those eyes which, despite this, showed a deeply broken soul. He admired you, as one admires a person for whom one feels respect. He had a great woman in front of him and felt almost small, in front of all that strong magnificence. You now turned away from Negan and opened the door.

“Who fucking tells you I’ll stay here waiting for you?”, Negan asked. You put your hand on the handle to go out and turned only your head, a tired smile lying on your face that seemed to have aged about ten years compared to your real age.

“No one, but I guess you are aware of the fact that you are alive only because I want you to be.”

Negan looked carefully at the door that you had just closed, biting the inside of his cheek. He took those few steps that separated him from the entrance, extending his arm and even putting his hand on the handle again, squeezing it, but without opening it. What stopped him from leaving? Probably, he found himself thinking, as soon as he set foot outside that miserable makeshift structure, the residents would surround him and kill him. And only that thought made him give up, or at least, so he was telling himself. Negan backed off, returning to sit on the bed he had occupied. He didn’t have to wait that long, however, because, a few minutes later, the door opened, causing your figure to be seen there again, followed by that of the doctor and that of Michonne.

“Good to see you where I left you.”

“And how the fuck do you think I could escape?”

“I don’t know, weren’t you the man with a thousand plans?”

“Don’t fuck with me, I could kill you right now.”

Michonne stayed on the side, noting with disagreement that Negan was no longer tied to the bed, observing with her lips that slight exchange of words, surprising when the two of you ended up giving yourselves a challenging smile. Negan shrugged, remaining silent as Siddiq approached him to remove the bandage covering his throat and check his wound.

“It has healed well, I think I can remove them.”, he murmured, turning his head towards you, searching for your approval, which was coming with a quick nod. The man got a small pair of scissors that helped him to finish the job, returning then to sit in front of Negan. He quickly caught his eye and the man noticed that his hand trembled imperceptibly.

“Hey doc, I’m not going to eat you, so try to calm the hell down.”

Siddiq breathed in, giving him an annoyed look, finding calm and working as he had learned to do. Negan’s eyes, meanwhile, moved towards the two women who had remained on the side talking to each other near the door, without being able to grasp the whole subject, only understanding that he was the protagonist.

The fog was slowly rising, leaving space for the rays of the morning sun. The paths were now left to themselves, without any more human activity that would fix the vegetation and the roads, making the grass return to take possession of anything. The two figures advanced step by step on their steeds in absolute silence, their ears always stretched to catch any kind of sound, from the most harmless to the most dangerous, but it seemed that at that time of the morning there were only the two of them, not even one Walker wandering around. Your horse went safely through all that desolation, the reins held in one hand left slightly long, you now trusted the animal’s sense of direction. With the other, you were holding the rope that guided the second horse. “If all goes well while we go to Hilltop, we should get back to Alexandria by tomorrow.”, you said. The two horses proceeded perpendicularly. Negan kept his hands on the saddle, uncapable to do anything else with them while the reins left to themselves a few centimeters ahead. “Well I have nothing better to do, anyway.”, he replied, deserving a crooked glance from you. “But tell me… Why didn’t that Ninja come with us?”

“Michonne.”

“What?”

“Her name is Michonne.”

“Fuck it.”

“Can’t you stop being such an asshole just for one day?”

“Hell no.”

Then silence fell again until you arrived… The door opened to make sure that you could enter the room where Maggie, sitting behind the desk that had once belonged to Gregory, was conversing quietly with Jesus. You didn’t bother to interrupt whatever they were discussing, stepping in confidently and letting the door behind you close again. Jesus stepped aside, putting himself in a corner, while Maggie looked up at her friend.

“I’ll leave tomorrow morning to return to Alexandria.”

“He stays until I decide what to do with him.”, Maggie replied cold.

“No, Maggie. Negan comes back with me. We’ll keep him locked up in Alexandria.”

Jesus watched the woman’s nerves tense, the expression contrite on her face, as her hand instinctively closed to form a fist while still resting on the documents she was dealing with. She should have remained quiet, for the child she was still carrying, but when it came to the leader of the Saviors, nothing could have made her feel more angry. How can one blame her, he had killed the man she loved, leaving her alone, making that child be born in a dark world without even knowing his father.

“Why? Why can’t I kill him? Here and now!”, she asked louder and you sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“We are not like them.”

Maggie stood up abruptly, banging the palm of her open hand on the desk, the sound booming all over the room.

“I don’t give a fuck, (Y/N)! Glenn should be here with us. Glenn and the others!”, she now shouted while a mixture of anger and pain was deforming her face from the features now hardened by the life she was forced to lead. Her hair was growing back slowly, giving her the charm she always had. You wondered what Glenn thought from up there seeing his family ripping each other slowly apart.

“Maggie, I know you’re angry. I know and I understand it, but if we kill him-…”, you started, but the woman narrowed her eyes, inhaling and placing the hand that had just slammed on the wood, on her stomach, in an automatic and sweet gesture. When she opened them again, they didn’t have much trouble finding your (Y/E/C) ones.

“At dawn, (Y/N), before I change my mind.”

You watched her carefully, realizing how much she, like all of them, had changed over the time. The day was now coming to an end. You started looking around quickly, trying to record what your eyes could see. Their shadows were getting longer and longer and the horses were starting to get tired. You cursed yourself for deciding not to bring Michonne and two or three other people with you, but you needed the woman to stay at Hilltop for a few days and then leave with ressources kindly donated by Maggie for your people.

“Are you going to stay quiet all night too?”, Negan broke the silence that had accompanied you both for the whole day, his tone annoyed.

“I would prefer it when you shut the hell up.”, you answered, an acid exchange of jokes that then ended terribly in nothing.

“No doll. Anyway, nearby there should be an old barn where we can stop for tonight, so as to keep the horses under control and allow them to rest.”, Negan suddenly said and you decided, for that time, to give him an explanation, stopping at the same time the two animals that snorted loudly, shaking their heads. The air began to cool off, changing into a clear but not too sultry evening. In the distance, only the silence answered you. Fortunately . You didn’t have the slightest desire to be faced with Walkers alone, nor did you intend to give Negan any weapon whatsoever. Nevertheless you had not gone all that way to see him die in front of you like that, torn apart by the walking dead.

“We would have already arrived if we had just taken a damn car.”

“Yes, you’re right, but we decided not to waste fuel unnecessarily.”

“My fucking ass hurts on that damn horse.”

As if one of the horses had heard it, it stepped hardly on the ground just before you urged it to calm down, making them turn in the middle of the street recognizing the path that, a little later, took them to an old building. After quickly checking it out, indeed, you were alone, you locked yourselves inside. You took care to remove the harnesses from them and managed to get them fixed in what was left of an old box. Negan watched in silence what you did, after sitting down on what remained of a mattress. The little light had run out, leaving room for the darkness of the night, a dark sky only lit by the faint slice of the moon. You did all you could to light a small lantern between you which contained a light fire inside, making it lighten the environment, but making sure it didn’t show on the outside so as not to attract unwanted guests, while the horses were quiet in their corner.

“I brought something to eat. Do you want something?”, you asked, breaking that silence. Negan mentally thanked you: He had never particularly loved silence, put too many memories and strange ideas in his head. He nodded, reaching out and touching your fingers to grab the box you were passing. A feeling of strange tranquility invaded him and his shoulders suddenly relaxed. The situation turned out to be quite ridiculous: He was locked in a former barn with the woman who, paradoxically, he recently wanted to kill with his own hands. And he felt repetitive thinking about it all the time, as he could very well have done it there, at that precise moment. It would have taken so little, but now he hardly cared anymore. Perhaps the reason for all that peace he felt was to realize that he no longer had to prove anything to anyone: He no longer had to be the strong and charismatic leader he had always been, but he could simply be himself, without the burden of other lives except his own. In spite of everything he was free.

“How can you be so quiet while you’re here, alone with me doll?”, he asked without being able to restrain himself.

You looked up from your food, watching him with those piercing and clear eyes of yours. “I know you won’t kill me.”, you began, with a slight shrug.

The tranquility with which you had replied had surprised you slightly. Why? How could you be so sure? Now you had started eating again without bothering to look further and Negan lost himself observing you again. Since when had that little scar appeared on her face? Had she always had it since he had known her? Or had it been the endless losses that had marked her face?

“I liked it a lot, you know?”

You raised your face with a questioning expression, but without needing to speak you knew that Negan would continue without you inciting him.

“Having people to love and being loved.”, Negan continued and noticed the shadow that passed over your face, a sign that the loss hadn’t yet been accepted, deep down, as you had already shown him. He realized how much of what everyone saw outside of that woman was only a shell. An armor. You had to be strong for others, but you weren’t for yourself. And he found himself so much in that figure of yours that he felt his stomach tighten. “Sorry, I didn’t want to touch a sore point.”, Negan found himself mumbling, even marveling at himself, but without looking away from you, who smiled almost embarrassed, making a quick gesture with the hand that held the spoon.

“They were good people…”, you started with a proud look. “But since when do you apologize?”

Suddenly you both found yourselfes giggling.

“I am a human being too, although I have often not shown it.”, he paused briefly, smiling nostalgically. “I have a heart too.” There was no need for you to answer and you both knew it. Without saying a word, you began to stand up and Negan sensed that their strange moment had ended. After that brief exchange of confidences, you realized that you needed to get away from him for a moment, to put your thoughts back together and then began to explore the environment in search of anything that took you away from him. The memory of your people never left, but you tried to conceal everything you felt about it. And yet Negan had managed to dig under that useless facade that you had built up to even ask to apologize when he realized that your people were an integral part of your life and not having them there. You ran a hand through your hair: How much you would have given to be able to take a shower at that moment. You absently checked the horses that had approached each other in an animal embrace to rest and decided to return to where you had left Negan, sure you would find him again. In fact, you saw him lying on the mattress you had managed to accumulate, his eyes half-closed, his lips slightly parted You suddenly smiled, Negan looked so normal, so human, so fragile. Now you would have been the guard, since you would only have nightmares if you tried to sleep. “(Y/N).”

It was the most beautiful word and name Negan had ever spoken. That name, whispered. A panting. A desperate need. His fingers clawing at the shirt, his fingers caressing her lips, looking into her (Y/E/C) eyes. The burning desire he felt in his stomach as he was himself. It was like being in front of a mirror. The same that could have been, as well as the opposite. If their lives had been turned upside down, they would probably still have had to fight each other. If she had lost everything long ago and Negan long after… (Y/N) could have been Negan and Negan could have been (Y/N). Fate had so decided for them.

He awoke with a little shock, realizing that he had fallen asleep like a baby. There was still no light coming from outside, so it was probably a simple nap that lasted a little while, but just enough to let his whole body relax, allowing his brain to make him dream of a scene that secretly upset him. He blinked several times, realizing he had a slight layer of sweat on him. He ran a hand over his face, yawning loudly.

“Nightmare?”, you asked staring at him.

“More or less…”, Negan found himself nodding.

“Since my people are-…”, you broke off, looking away, but when you brought your face back to Negan, you realized you could speak freely, without understanding why those eyes weren’t judging you, they were understanding. “I continue to relive that scene, in the hope that it is not true, that they-…”, your voice cracked; “…-will come to my door to ask me if everything is all right and instead there is nothing that goes well.”, you said and quickly ran a hand to the base of your nose, looking at the ground. Only when you sensed Negan’s hand squeezing your shoulder did you realize that the man had risen to approach you. It was a comforting contact that reminded you that you were still alive, despite everything. You laughed softly, raising your face and crossing Negan’s eyes.

“Ridiculous: I had never even talked to Daryl or Michonne about that.”

“It’s a damn strange life, right doll? You find yourself in this god-forgotten place talking about your ghosts with me. You really are stupid.”

“And you are the kind gentleman you always were, you jerk.”, you teased him and you both laughed. Why had you two ended up in war? Maybe you didn’t even know it anymore. Maybe Carl was right. Perhaps that was exactly what Rick’s son meant: You and Negan are similar, you could do great things, together, if only you both knew it. Or if only it wasn’t too late. Because often life does so, it makes you realize that you can have something beautiful only to then give you the lesson you deserve for all the evil you have caused, taking away that one precious stone.

“But at least I’m sincere, (Y/L/N).”

When Negan’s hand left your shoulder, allowing him to return to his seat, though no longer where he was earlier, but a little closer to you. Right now you had never felt so upset by the events. You had decided to spare him, but you didn’t know why exactly. You had decided to take him away from Hilltop but that reason you knew very well: Maggie would have killed him as soon as you turned your back to leave. You had decided to leave Alexandria only in Negan’s company. Because… You simply hoped to find something in Negan. That something he had never shown to anyone because he had a role to maintain. Were you’re hoping to find a new friend? What did you hope for? Now you gave yourself a slight push forward with one hand resting on the ground. “Negan?”

“Yeah?”, murmured the person concerned, turning his head towards you just in time to see the scene almost in slow motion, just in time not to even realize what was happening, finding your face attached to his. The only thing he could think of at that moment was a thought so stupid that it made him want to punch himself: "It’s the first time in so long that she calls me by name while sounding so normal…“. His body had not even stiffened with surprise, but he immediately relaxed, as if he had been prepared for that human warmth. He needed it. You both needed it. To forget all the evil you had done, all the evil you had inflicted on each other. Negan’s fingers were more secure than he’d ever imagined when they suddenly slipped behind your neck to press you against him. Although you had made the first move, it was Negan who was more impetuous, asking for more, a deeper contact, sticking his tongue in your mouth. What were you doing? In the silence of that night, in the middle of the open countryside, in an old barn, those two rivals suddenly forgot who they were and the rest of the world, trying to dig into each other, under those layers of armor that both they exhibited, showing their weaknesses to one another. When the sun rose again on that world, everything would still be the same, but different only for you both. The only spectators were those two horses that huddled together, as if they wanted to protect each other while they slept peacefully: Even the animals had realized that the earth now had only dangers and enjoyed rare moments of tranquility. That hate had led you both to something more, to a higher level, now beyond hatred, beyond anything. But had you ever really hated each other? Or was it simply the situation that caused you to fight? People? Your families? Your ego? Your decisions…

"Why the fuck did you do that?”, Negan asked, finding himself absurdly ridiculous in the role of a little teenager asking the girl who is facing the reason for a kiss. A kiss that meant everything and nothing at the same time.

“Is it so terrible to follow instinct?”, you whispered in reply, finding yourself having to face a lazy smirk from the other who did not have to repeat it twice and went back to torturing you, making your bodies approach as you had never done, as you never should have. After all, the world had been too cruel to humans that, at that moment, giving you both their strength so that you could find even the little peace and comfort you can find in another person. “This won’t change anything, (Y/N).”

You turned to look at him as he tore through the silence with those words. Negan was putting on his shirt, which slid gently over his chest. As always we manage to ruin even the moments where, perhaps, the only protagonist should remain silent.

“What exactly?”, you asked, clutching the girth of your horse and giving it a gentle caress on the neck, below the long mane. The animal, almost as if it wanted to thank you, directed his nose to your back, giving you a slight push, making you laugh. Negan observed that small scene that could result from everyday life: It seemed almost completely normal. Normal, if it wasn’t that you were (Y/N) and Negan. Normal, if it hadn’t been so dramatically wrong for the outside world. You now should hurry, otherwise the various hordes of Walkers could reach you and only you two couldn’t defend yourselves very well.

“Everything.”

You sighed while approaching Negan. There would have been no gestures of affection between the two of you because by now the sun had risen, like a broken spell, but also you both knew that what had happened between you had not been an accident. You both knew that this was made from the beginning for a reason, or perhaps more than one, but the first of all was to make you understand that the two of you had chased each other for too long with war when it would have been easy enough to simply do peace.

“Nothing changes, Negan. I’ll take you with me to Alexandria, where I’ll have to keep you locked up, for all you’ve done. Everyone expects it… Everyone would have expected me to kill you that day, because that would have ended it, but-…”

“This world is not for you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”, joked Negan, approaching you. You smiled at him, holding the animal still and watching him. Once mounted in the saddle, you handed him the reins and a knife, receiving a questioning look in response.

“I trust you.”

These were the most beautiful words Negan had ever heard when life has changed for all of you. Those words had the power to make him want to live again, in that world. To fight, but on the right side this time. He would have liked to reply ironically or with his usual tone, but he remained silent. After checking that there were no imminent dangers outside, you set out, side by side, even daring to change the pace to speed up the journey, even though you knew that, once set foot in Alexandria, nothing would have been like that night, or perhaps everything. When you finally reached the walls of the by now town, Negan perceived all the hostile glances aimed at himself. He took care to hide the knife that you had given him for the second part of the journey to defend himself in case of a attack. He felt the hatred that pierced his back, even when they dismounted.

“He’s not tied up.”, said a voice behind you. Negan recognized the low tone, full of negative feelings. Despite that hate-filled sentence, when he turned around he saw that your arms tightened Daryl and vice versa in a fraternal greeting.

“It would have been difficult to mount on horseback if he had been tied, especially in the event of an attack.”, you replied pragmatically.

“It wouldn’t have been a great loss if Walkers had dismembered that piece of shit.”, said another voice, of which, however, Negan was unable to trace back to any face. The crowd that had gathered around you began to mutter. You stepped forward and Negan found himself staring at your back, your shoulders straight, your gait proud, the (Y/N) (Y/L/N) they all needed.

“We have already discussed this.”

“In reality, we didn’t discuss it at all. You have decided for everyone.”

The feelings of peace had lasted very little, noted Negan. It was Daryl himself who gave everyone’s thoughts a voice, probably also because no one else would go against the you. Not after all you had done for them. They talked about him as if he wasn’t there and it started to bother him.

“Daryl, I thought we talked about it.”

“Maggie ain’t the only voice when it comes to the shit he did to us!”

The tone of his voice was slightly raised and Negan didn’t remember ever hearing him shouting at you. Now Daryl gave you a look of contempt But you didn’t move an inch. “I won’t change my mind: We won’t kill him. He will be locked up and this is justice!”, you burst out, passing your gaze on all the people who were present. Negan found it very ironic that nobody could really stand against you, even though everyone disagreed with your idea. No one tried to kill him, not even to hurt him. Perhaps, after all, they were all cowards and had hoped that it would be you who held the weapon that would make him die. Human beings. In the end they were all the same, one to the other. All able to speak, but none to act. The light hit him directly in the face, like every morning since he was in that narrow square meter of space in Alexandria. Paradoxically, he came to his mind when he was at Hilltop, lying in that bed with the bandage on his neck and the points that pulled the skin and the only roommate was the presence of you when you went there to sleep. He smiled to himself, moved by the well-known sound of the key that was inserted into the lock and turned, though less vigorously than usual. How many days had passed since your last visit with him? He felt a slight tightening in his stomach when he sensed that there was something different that day in the air. He could not explain it. From that night things between you changed, even if you only showed it in that cell where you went to bring him food and stayed there, sitting and watching him and talking about your thoughts, your ideas, your projects. And Negan had almost become a confidant. But that day would have been different. And the confirmation came when he saw that, once the door opened, Michonne entered and not you. She looked different, her face looked tired. He would have liked to welcome her with a vulgar joke, as he used to do when anyone else came in, but those dull eyes almost made his heart stop. He got up, reaching the bars of the cell.

“Where’s that fucking leader of yours?”, he asked, trying to show off a certain tone in his voice. Michonne glared at him at first, then lowered her eyes, biting her lower lip.

“Move away, I’ll give you your ration.”, she ordered dryly.

The knuckles of Negan’s hands whitened as his fingers clawed at the icy material that made up those bars.

“What happened? Did she get fucked up by some nice little words and stayed away?” She received that crooked smile that you had actually learned to know so well in that last time and as a single answer Negan saw two dark eyes from which silent tears began to fall, while Michonne did not even make a sound. Nothing at all. That woman, so strong, so lonely once, so marked by losses like all of them, cried silently in front of that man who had killed so many good people, who had tried to kill you, who had been spared by you and he knew perfectly well that he had changed since he had come to Alexandria.

“I’m sorry.”, she murmured, leaving the food on the ground, leaving it outside the cell, sure that in any case Negan’s stomach wouldn’t need all that, and, without looking at him, turned away from him, leaving him alone. Negan’s knees couldn’t hold him for long, causing him to collapse on the ground, feeling how cold that floor was. He mentally thanked that woman for leaving him alone. He wanted to ask her so many questions, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay calm. It couldn’t have happened. He narrowed his eyes for a few seconds and then opened them again with the desire to break something. He stretched his arm over the bars to grab the damn food that you gave him every day when you entered that place where, unfortunately, you had to lock him up. But you… You understood him. Negan now clenched his fingers. The moment he lifted the food slowly to be able to throw it against the wall in front of him, he noticed a brief glint that caught his eye: A key, resting on a small piece of folded paper. It was a small letter written in a hurry where he was told what happened and your sacrifice, a letter that ended with the following words:

“I’ll make sure there aren’t any guards tonight. That’s what (Y/N) wanted.”

And now Negan knew very well what he would do with the opportunity that Michonne had just given him.

The door creaked slightly when it was opened and then closed behind you.

“You’re awake?”, you found yourself asking. And how could he not have woken up when that door had made all that noise when someone opened it?

“Yes, thanks to you.”, Negan muttered, stretching and rubbing his eyes. He sat down on that uncomfortable bed, glancing over his shoulder, observing that, from the small window, only the darkness answered him. It was still night, strange. Usually you would come by during the day to bring him food and have a chat.

“What are you doing here in the middle of the night, (Y/N)?”

You now opened the cell, entering yourself, but standing at the entrance, silently staring at Negan, almost as if you were asking for permission to pass. And the yes was given with an almost ironic hand gesture.

“I couldn’t sleep tonight.”

“Nightmares?”, Negan asked, yawning. He knew they were alone because lately the guards at his door were less and less frequent.

“Thoughts, more than anything else.”

Negan now made room for you, allowing you to sit down, your hands resting on your knees, slightly tightening, as if you were anxious. He said nothing: He knew that when you were ready, you would start talking, which happened a little later. You began to illustrate your problems with that damn bridge, with the people you had gathered to work on it, especially with the former Saviors. Negan knew very well how complicated these people were to manage and it almost hurt his heart to see how you wanted everyone, without exception, to be collaborative and happy, but it was human nature that displeased you and unfortunately among those people. The issue would not have ended idyllically. Now Negan found himself putting his hand on your thigh, squeezing it slightly. The two of you remained silent for a few minutes, happy to be able to enjoy that brief contact. You both had never been so close after that one night in the old barn.

“You know I can help you with those people.”

“I know, Negan. I know… But unfortunately you can’t yet…”, you said and looked at him as if you wanted to apologize only to those eyes and Negan understood. Yes, he understood. You now trusted him, but you had already ventured too far, taking him to Alexandria and locking him up without killing him. He could not yet ask the entire population to welcome him as an ordinary person, as if he had not been the Negan who went around slaughtering people with Lucille. Despite this, he pusehd himself on your lips because it was time he wanted to do the first step. Was it affection, was it love, was it nothing, was it need, or was it similarity? You then walked away a few inches, asking why he did that.

“Once a highly stupid and hateful woman asked me: Is it so terrible to follow instinct?”, Negan replied and you both smiled and even for that night you forgot everything: You couldn’t understand where one started and the other ended. You both were a mixture of emotions and anger that vented over one another. One because it could not be freed and the other because it could not free him. And all that was yours, in secret. Perhaps that was why everything was so exciting: The need to have and share a secret that no one would ever discover or know. You felt the coldness of the wall against your now bare back, but the cold only made you feel the thrill of pleasure that only those fingers could give you. Hot hands, ruined hands, hands stained with the blood of too many people, hands that had killed, hands that, despite all that, made you lose your mind complety. He now put his fingers in your soft hair pushing your head against himself and you both stayed together, all night, as if you had been in a parallel world, yours.

“Be careful, okay?”

“Do you worry about me?”

“Fuck you, (Y/N).”

You laughed when you found yourself having to turn that key again to lock Negan up inside.

“I will return safe and sound, like all the other times.”, you said.

“And I’m not going anywhere, never again.”, Negan shrugged, knowing that you knew he was outside but got back.

“One day, Negan. One day…”, you smiled, giving him a passionate kiss which he returned with pleasure. Negan observed you to the last detail of your back that was now moving away. You both said goodbye, not knowing that this was the last time you would meet and love each other. Because we never really know if we will return safe.

(2 days later…)

Negan inhaled the night air with that last encounter he had had with you in his head. He was free. He could do anything, but he knew that once managed to elude any guard in Alexandria, he would go there, where the bridge had taken a person too important to everyone. For Daryl. For Maggie. For all those people who needed to believe in someone. And especially for himself. You couldn’t have died like that and Negan was so convinced that he wanted to see it for himself: He would go look for you, yes. It was the last thing he would do on this fucked up planet, until he will find you.


End file.
